


Where it Hurts

by Roga



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2013-2014 NHL Season, Blow Jobs, Bruises, Gay Porn Hard, Injury, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, dudes kind of stumbling into kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/pseuds/Roga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonny pays Patrick a visit when he's injured at the end of the '13-'14 regular season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where it Hurts

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Kaner was injured at the end of the regular season, but before Jonny was injured too. Finished now for the game 7 Gay Porn Hard prayer circle, very barely after second intermission so hey, THERE'S STILL HOPE. Scheduling canon handwaved.

“Does it hurt?” Jonny asks, running his hand lightly down the side of Patrick’s knee, and around to cup the back of Patrick’s calf, so gentle Patrick can feel the heat of his fingers more than their touch.

Patrick’s perched against the headboard, and Jonny looks at him expectantly, curious. Patrick shakes his head. “Not really,” he says.

Jonny presses his fingers in, just a little, and Patrick hisses at the flare of pain. Jonny doesn’t quite smirk, but his lips curve up like he’s somehow proving a point. “Liar,” he says, and Patrick’s about to protest but Jonny ducks down to press a kiss to Patrick’s knee, soothing and gentle, effectively cutting Patrick off before he’d even begun. Patrick can’t help his shiver as Jonny’s tongue slips out and he licks around where it aches, when Jonny bends Patrick’s leg to the side so he can trace the lines around the back of Patrick’s knee with his tongue, burning hot.

“You’re such a douchebag,” Patrick says weakly, and can feel Jonny smile against his skin, Jonny’s eyes closed and his tongue shaping patterns around Patrick’s knee, over and in between the areas where it feels sore beneath the skin. It makes something flutter in Patrick’s chest, seeing Jonny down there, like he’s trying to kiss Patrick better, get him healthy and back in game shape before the doctors can by sheer will and caring. Jonny’s fingers dig in in a little deeper, and this time a whimper escapes Patrick, and he has to say, “Stop, stop, I can’t,” but can’t help the disappointment he feels as Jonny pulls away. 

Jonny looks up at Patrick. “Yeah, no?” He licks his lips, which is utterly unfair, like Patrick doesn’t _want_ Jonny’s mouth all over his body, ugh, but his knee actually is starting to hurt under Jonny’s ministrations, and Patrick’s really not supposed to exert his lower body area, which, at this pace, is about to get really fucking exerted.

“Ugh,” Patrick says, and throws an arm over his eyes to protect himself from the sight of Jonny’s stupidly hot face. 

Jonny leans down to press a last brief kiss to Patrick’s knee, and then Patrick feels a shift in the mattress as Jonny moves up to straddle his waist, Jonny’s boxer briefs rubbing against his own. Jonny leans down and presses a hot kiss to Patrick’s collarbone, which makes Patrick’s hips jerk up, fuck him, before smirking against Patrick’s skin and saying, “It’s okay, I know you’re kind of a wimp.”

Patrick pushes Jonny’s shoulder. “You’re an asshole,” he notes, “I’m fucking injured, fuck you,” and punches Jonny again for emphasis, harder, right against a bruise and digging in his knuckles to make it hurt, show him who’s a wimp. He’s prepared to hear Jonny grunt in pain and apologize for being a dick, except instead Jonny’s breath catches and he stills, and Patrick is definitely, definitely not imagining that Jonny’s cock just twitched in his boxers.

Which - holy wow.

“Oh,” Patrick says. “Wow. Really?”

Jonny’s still holding himself completely motionless. He meets Patrick’s eyes, unwavering. “Really, what?” he says carefully.

Patrick presses against Jonny’s bruise again, harder than he’d ever attempted when they were just fooling around, a question, and Jonny’s eyes flutter closed, his dick jumping again, a flush rising in his cheeks. 

“Is this okay?” Patrick asks. His heart is pounding, and he can feel Jonny’s pounding just as hard.

Jonny’s head drops, hiding his face, and he mumbles, “ _Yes,_ ” against Patrick’s lips before diving in, kissing Patrick like they haven’t seen each other for more than just the length of Jonny’s road trip, like he suddenly can’t get enough. His hand closes around Patrick’s wrist and pushes it even harder into the bruise, like, fuck, like he needs to squeeze in more of that feeling, get whatever he can while Patrick’s distracted by kissing before Patrick changes his mind, which Patrick really does not intend to do anytime soon, thank you very much. 

Patrick pushes up into the kiss fiercely, tries to convey that he’s right fucking there with Jonny, one hand still pressed against Jonny’s shoulder, the other skirting across Jonny’s hip, settling there. “Hey,” he gasps between kisses, and squeezes Jonny’s hip to make him pause for a moment. “Slow down,” he says, “I wanna make this - I wanna make this good.”

Jonny closes his eyes, like it’s too hard to look at Patrick right now. His face is a deep shade of red, high in his cheeks, and his voice sounds wrecked when he rasps, “Kaner. It’s good.” He leans down, mouthing against Patrick’s jaw, and thrusts forward so Patrick can feel how hard he is. “It’s really. Fucking. Good.”

“Fuck,” Patrick says, hips bucking up, and then thinks _fuck_ again as he feels his leg tense and remembers that he should keep it rested, fuck the whole entire universe. He bends his right knee, trying to stabilize himself without moving his left, and scoots a little down the bed, lying flat on his back except for the pillow under his head/

“Come here,” he tells Jonny, and brings his hands around to Jonny’s ass to pull him closer and also cop a generous feel. “No, wait,” he corrects himself, “get naked, then come up here.” He gives Jonny a little tap on the ass when Jonny doesn’t move, and then decides to follow a hunch and pinches Jonny’s nipple, fast but hard. Jonny hisses and jerks almost violently, his dick throbbing against Patrick’s abs. 

“Shit,” Patrick breathes, and drops his hands away from Jonny’s skin so he’s not tempted to keep them there for the next twenty four hours and no one manages to get naked ever. “Come on, shorts off. Now.”

Jonny blinks, pupils a deep, dark black. “Right,” he says, then leaps off of Patrick like a fucking gazelle, slides off his boxers with the kind of grace that really shouldn’t be possible with the hard on he’s sporting, and softly lands back on his knees next to Patrick. He’s surprisingly gentle when he lifts up to settle on Patrick again, bracketing Patrick’s chest between his thighs. Jonny’s cock juts out hard and heavy, already leaking with precome, but for once that’s not what Patrick’s eyes are drawn to - but rather to the enormous, dark bruise on Jonny’s upper thigh that revealed itself when Jonny took off his boxers. 

“Jesus christ,” Patrick wonders, fingers flying instantly to touch. He stops just short, hovering over the bruise, fingers barely touching the skin. It’s large, spanning almost the length of Patrick’s palm, shades of angry red and purple pooling by yellows. It looks like it needs about ten packs of ice on it. 

“Who’s shot is this from?” he asks. 

He can see Jonny's throat move as he swallows. “Karlsson. End of the second last night.”

“That thing must hurt like hell.”

“Yeah,” Jonny says, a note of frustration in his voice, but Patrick’s pretty sure it’s not from him stating the obvious. 

Patrick experimentally blows a soft whiff of air at the darkest part of the bruise. Jonny’s entire body _ripples_ above him. Jesus. He’s _never_ seen Jonny react to anything like this. It’s amazing, and one of the hottest things Patrick’s ever seen, and weirdly humbling. 

“Can I?” he asks, grazing the edge of the bruise with his fingertips.

“ _Kaner_ ,” Jonny says, his voice breaking. “Please.”

“Fuck,” Patrick says, and then leans forward and takes Jonny’s dick in his mouth as he pushes hard into the bruise.

This proves to be a mistake, as Jonny bucks up with a yell and nearly knocks Patrick’s head against the headboard. 

Jonny immediately brings down a hand to cradle Patrick’s cheek. “Sorry, sorry,” Jonny says, face overcome with remorse and looking slightly mortified. He’s still breathing heavily, which should definitely count as a win.

“Literally the most embarrassing way to get a concussion I can think of,” Patrick notes breathlessly. 

“Shut up,” Jonny groans, and then, “Probably, god, sorry, I.”

"Also hot," Patrick finishes. "Super fucking hot, Jonny, god, you should see yourself, come here," he urges, and drags Jonny down for a kiss, thrusting his tongue as deep as he can into Jonny's mouth. Jonny comes after him easily, so pliant, and when Patrick squeezes his thigh again Jonny whimpers into his mouth. "You're so hot like this," Patrick says, lightheaded with how much he wants Jonny. "Tell me what you want."

"I don’t want you to—" Jonny says desperately. Get a sex concussion, Patrick fills in. 

"I'm fine," Patrick promises, and pushes Jonny's hand back to feel Patrick's dick rock hard in his boxers. "I'm so much more than fucking fine, and I'm, like, mentally prepared now, and I really want you to fuck my mouth." Patrick licks his lips. 

Jonny groans loudly, and then tries to make up for it by rubbing Patrick's dick through his boxers, making Patrick groan too. Patrick's pretty sure that’s a yes, then. He lets go of Jonny's wrist and brings his own hand to his mouth, licking his palm and then wrapping it around Jonny's straining cock, starting to jack it slowly. "Here, look, we're good," he says, and pushes against the bruise again. Jonny swears and tenses all over, but holds himself still. Patrick grins. 

"Okay, scoot up for real this time," he says, and leans back against the pillow. Jonny doesn't protest this time, just moves forward on his knees until they're touching the pillow, up almost as far as Patrick's ears, and his hands hold on to the headboard. Jonny's cock hangs in front of his face, thick and dripping, and Patrick's mouth waters at the scent of it. Unable to resist anymore, he licks just the tip. He loves the first salty taste of Jonny's skin and sweat, the warm, smooth texture of his dick, the soft moan Jonny makes when Patrick dips in to lick him again. 

Patrick runs his hands up and down Jonny's thighs, reveling in the expanse of all that skin, feeling their strength as Jonny holds himself up, and opens his mouth invitingly.  


" _God_ , Pat," Jonny exhales, and guides his cock into Patrick's mouth with one hand.  


Patrick moans, pleased, and closes his lips around Jonny's cock. He tugs Jonny closer, and Jonny starts to thrust in, a slow, measured pace, careful not to thrust too deep from this angle. Patrick's hands travel up Jonny's chest, scratching lightly, past trembling abs that should be absolutely illegal and up until they find Jonny's nipples, which god, Patrick would love to have in his mouth right now, sucking and biting until Jonny squirmed and whined with pleasure. Instead, he tweaks them between his fingers and pinches hard, sucking Jonny's cock as far as he can. 

It's Jonny who moans this time, deep and shuddering, and it's one of the most amazing sounds Patrick's ever heard. Patrick doesn't wait, immediately does it again. "Pat, _fuck_ ," Jonny gasps. "More, please, give me something—"

Patrick moves his fingers down to Jonny's ass and digs his fingers in roughly. He's not sure that'll leave a mark, but it definitely does when he scratches Jonny and Jonny's rhythm falters, hips jerking forward just a bit as Jonny lets out a soft grunt. Patrick can taste a spurt of precome on his tongue, fuck. He urges Jonny to keep rolling his hips forward, and then brings one hand back to Jonny's thigh; he can't see the bruise from his current position, but he knows the shape and size, exactly how tender it is, and on Jonny's next thrust, he presses in _hard_. 

Jonny shouts, and Patrick can feel another spurt of precome as Jonny's hips jolt. Patrick doesn't let up, keeps the pressure on the bruise while he sucks on Jonny's dick, his other hand feeling Jonny's ass clenching and unclenching as he tries to control his motions. "Fuck, fuck, it hurts," Jonny moans above him, gasping for air, "fuck, please, Pat, keep going," and Patrick is literally not sure he will be able to survive this.

He presses his knuckles in even harder, his own shoulder starting to ache with the effort now as Jonny pants and groans overhead, and it's like pushing through to make it to the end of a shift, trying to give Jonny what he needs. Jonny sounds so close, just needing a little bit more to push him over the edge. Patrick moves his left hand to cup Jonny's balls, earning him another breathless moan, and because no one can question Patrick Kane's coordination skills, he starts squeezing, slow but steady.

Jonny comes with a shout, gripping the headboard to be still as he floods Patrick's mouth with spurt after spurt of come. Patrick swallows once, then twice, waiting for Jonny's cock to stop jerking before giving it a final lick and pulling away. 

Jonny rolls to the side, collapsing on the side of Patrick's good leg, still breathing heavily. He looking gorgeously, satisfyingly _wiped_. Patrick's still hard, but in a sense it's almost like he doesn't care; he feels like he could just keep lying there, drinking in Jonny with his sweat-drenched hair, his slow fluttering eyelashes, his flushed face, just watching his chest rise and fall as he regains his breath. It's a little embarrassing. 

Of course, he also isn't going to protest when Jonny mumbles in a gravelly voice, "Let me," and, "Jesus, Kaner," breathing hotly against Patrick's shoulder as he curls a hand under Patrick's boxers and coaxes him into an orgasm, which washes over Patrick in a warm rush.  
When it's over, Jonny slides his hand out and Patrick's ruined boxers along with it, wiping his hand on them and tossing them in the direction of the bathroom. He kisses Patrick's shoulder. "Thank you."

Patrick flexes his left leg, just to see if anything's changed. It feels exactly the same as it did before; maybe a little tinglier but Patrick will attribute that to his orgasm. 

He pats Jonny on the head. "Buddy, if you wait until I'm injured again to tell me things like this next time, I will not be held responsible for my actions." And by actions he means withholding sex just to spite Jonny, because they could totally have had this sex with Patrick in full capacity. Not that he would like, trade Jonny riding his face or anything. 

But Jonny's looking at him with fond, half-lidded eyes, his face so fucking _open_ it makes something flutter in Patrick's heart, that when he asks, "What actions?" Patrick just sighs with a small smile and says, "Oh, I don't know. But I'm sure it will hurt."


End file.
